Strength
by TrampledRose
Summary: In which Victor was raised in an abusive household, and it is told how the path of his childhood directs his affections for Yuri Katsuki. The past catches up to the couple, and once again, Victor will have to be strong, but now, for more than himself. Oneshot. Rated T for slight hate violence.


**_Hello! I'm TrampledRose. I have recently decided to join this fandom, as my love for Yuri! On Ice grows. I look forward to writing for you as the series continues, and hope you take a liking towards my stories, as there are many on the way for this fandom alone!_**

 ** _Please check out my profile - there are other fandoms we might have in common. You may want to read some of my other works. I also post medium summaries for stories I am considering starting. Let me know if any catch your eye, via the poll or PM._**

 ** _I am also officially a Beta Reader now. Check out my Beta profile and please consider me if you are looking for a Beta Reader, temporary or otherwise._**  
 ** _I do not own Yuri! On Ice, though I wish I did._**

 _Strength_

~Yuri's P.O.V.~

Victor's perfection.

That is a troublesome topic for me.

I get it. Sometimes, it's really difficult to think that the record-breaking, world-famous skater is a human being, a man, just like me. But when I think back really hard, I see the truth.

My beautiful Victor, an imperfection.

There is no doubt in my mind that Victor is top of the line at what he does. But 'perfect' doesn't exist, even applied to Victor Nikiforov.

I stood at the side of the ice, admiring his form, his grace, observing the ideas he tested, the accomplishments he celebrated by shouting in Russian once he succeeded.

However, I've also seen him bail midair, stumble over a step sequence, knock against the wall. Trip over his own blades. Forget to tie his skate. I've seen him enter the rink with tears streaming down his face, sobs racking through him. He skated roughly, with no purpose. His blades sliced the ice as if it were the source of his distress. I've watched him skate until his legs collapsed, watched him scream in frustration, pound the ice with his fists until he broke skin.

I've been there. On good days, he smiled at me, maybe even talked to me, even though I never replied, due to nerves. He might've thought I didn't know English. On bad days, he glanced at me, then ignored me for the rest of practice, his focal point on the ice, not the fanboy.

I saw a lot of Victor.

But there is one thing I never saw - I never saw him give up. Victor only turned in once he finished what he needed to do that day.

He spent whole days practicing, improving, mastering. Whether it was going from one jump to another, learning the pattern to a song, or letting out some steam. No matter how he got hurt, he prevailed.

* * *

After a good while of talking about his skating career, the interviewer began prying.

"So, Mr. Nikiforov," She asked. "Tell me a little more about your personal life."

Victor immediately perked. "Ah, what would you like to know?"

"How about a comment on your alleged relationship with Yuri Katsuki, your student?" She smiled slyly, I saw even from where I stood behind the camera.

"Alleged?" He blinked, smiling. "He and I are actually very intimate with each other." He looked down and twirled the ring on his finger, causing me to blush.

"I see." Her eyes twinkled. "Another topic I'd like to dive into is your family life."

I swear I saw his heart-shaped smile falter. "Excuse me?"

"Well, not a whole lot of information has been divulged concerning your upbringing. Would you mind to make a brief statement?"

Victor's eyes grew cold behind his smile. "Ah, well... My upbringing was not unlike others in Russia. Strict and busy." I took a step forward as I heard Victor's voice strain, his words carefully chosen.

"And can you tell me about your parents? Are you close to them?"

This time, Victor was done smiling. His eyes were blank. "Close?" His voice was small.

"Yes, close."

He looked down. "My mother and I were close before she passed years ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss." The woman said, fake sympathy in her tone before she moved on. But me, I was listening intently. Victor had never spoken about his family that I knew of. "And your father?"

Victor went pale. And silent.

"Mr. Nikiforov?"

"Ah, h-he was..."

"Come again?"

I watched as Victor clenched his fists and his jaw, a defensive expression closing him off. It flashed across, then suddenly, he was smiling again. "Sorry, I have no comment for that one."

The woman's face spread in a predatory grin, glad to have something to potentially dig up. "Are you not comfortable talking about your father?"

"No comment." Victor still smiled.

"Why is that?"

"No comment." He opened his eyes, giving her a glare past the smile. I took another step forward, licking my lips. My heart was pounding.

"Why are you not comfortable speaking of your dad?"

Victors face fell. "I have nothing further to say to you." His voice shook, eyes hard and frown prominent.

"Victor?" My voice sounded loud in the thick silence.

He turned to look at me, eyes far away. "Ah, Yuri. It's time to go - the interview is over." The woman sat stunned as Victor grabbed his coat and left with me.

When we got to the car, I saw his hands trembling in his lap.

"Victor, are you okay?" I asked softly.

"He is dead." He said firmly. "Father is gone. He died the day I moved out of that stuffy house. I have no more family." He looked at me, and his eyes were piercing. "Please keep that in mind."

I nodded after a moment. "I will."

I drove with one hand covering his.

* * *

A few weeks later, we receive a gift from Phichit.

"Yay! Champagne!" Victor raises the bottle gleefully as I read the note.

 _No special occasion. Just wanted to make sure you two were leaving some time for yourselves. Enjoy. - Phichit._

"Yuri, I have an idea!" Victor takes my attention back. "Tonight, let's get all dressed up, and stay home. I can find some good music so we can dance, and we'll drink, and maybe, if the night goes well, we could -"

"Victor!" I cut him off as his playfulness turned to mischief, blushing. "That sounds great. But let's save it for this weekend. We do still have plans tomorrow." I winked, cupping his cheek.

His eyes shone. "As you wish, Yuri."

 _Thank you, Phichit._

* * *

So that Friday, Victor and I put on our best suits. I slicked back my hair and put in contacts. We danced and drank and drank and danced until we were tipsy, and his teeth teased my bottom lip while we swayed together.

"Perhaps another glass." He suggested, accent alluring - I couldn't help but let it intoxicate me into agreement.

So turning the music down to background noise, we finished off the last of our Aphrodisiac, laughing quietly at God knows what.

"Yuri, how are you feeling?" Victor purred into my hair, still holding his glass.

"I'm fine, Victor. I'm not even drunk." I smile, balancing my half-full glass in my fingers. "What time is it?"

He peeks over my shoulder. "Just after ten."

"Okay."

He pulls back, looking at me with shining eyes. "May I ask for a final dance?"

I pretend to think about it. "You may."

As he takes my hand, there is a knock on the front door. Victor groans while I ponder who it could be. "Don't answer it, Yuri." He begs quietly. "I want you all to myself."

The knock sounds again, insistent.

"It'll just take a moment, I bet." I pull away and open the door.

I'm suddenly face to face with a tall, wide man - he was almost two heads taller than me. His face bore weathered but stern features, a strong nose and square jaw.

He looked at me with disregard. "Is this Victor Nikiforov's apartment?" His accent was thick and undoubtedly Russian.

"U-Um..." I hesitated. He didn't seem like a crazed fan, but I still needed a reason to confirm that this was Victor's residence.

He leaned in closer, looking at me as if I was a dumb child. "Can you speak English?"

My face flushed in both shock and embarrassment.

"Yuri," Victor crept up from behind, voice sing-songy. "Who's at the door?"

The man looked over me, and I felt Victor freeze.

"Victor, hello. I was just speaking with this man here." He said this man as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

I step to the side and turn to see Victor still frozen, surprise and dread across his features. He meets my eyes and suddenly looks self-conscious.

"Victor!" The man snaps his fingers as he repeats himself, causing us both to jump. Victor stands stiff, face blank and eyes wide. A sticky hot feeling forms in my stomach as I realize I do not like this man that controls Victor.

"Hello, Papa." He says quietly.

The man smiles, but it does not reach his eyes. "Am I welcome inside, or is this man going to make your old man stand in the doorway like a stranger?"

Victor looks at me, and I do not recognize his expression. "Yuri, this is Alexei. Can he come in for a bit?"

Victor's father - Alexei - curls his lip slightly, and I can tell he was expecting Victor to be much more forward with me.

I nodded and step out of the way.

"Oh, he understands English, then?" He says as he removes his hat. The sour feeling returns to my stomach.

Victor's eyes grow sharp for a moment. "Better than I can sometimes." He says proudly.

"You must not have improved much, then." Mutters the man. Victor bristles.

"Papa -" Victor's voice is cutting, dangerous.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" I interrupt, gaining Alexei's focus. "Green tea, or perhaps something else?" I smile as convincingly as I can, but his words still burn inside me.

"Water is fine." He says shortly, turning back to Victor.

I listen in on them as I fill a glass, hands shaking.

"Sorry to drop in so late. I had something to tend to in the area, and thought I'd say hello, since you were in town."

"Don't worry about it." Victor says.

"It seems as if you and your friend were about to go out. Or just got home."

"Yuri and I were just having some fun." Victor reassured him.

I return to the room and see that they were still standing. He takes the glass and sits it on the table, untouched.

"Yuri." Repeated Alexei thoughtfully. "But not Yuri Plisetsky."

"No, this is Yuri Katsuki."

"Ah, the one from the rumors." He eyes me suspiciously, and I try not to squirm. "Yuri, give me and Victor a private moment." It was spoken as a question, but his gaze told me to leave.

Victor looks over at me and his blank stare softens. "It's alright, Yurichka, you can go. Could you pick us out some pajamas?"

His father's eyebrows lowered in displeasure. I assume at my Russian nickname.

"Sure." I smile at Victor as confidently as I can, and leave slowly. I unabashedly eavesdrop.

"I see you've cut your hair again." Alexei starts. "I was under the impression you were letting it grow back."

"To grow it out again would bring back memories that I am not fond of." Victor answered distantly. I could tell he was put at less ease without company around."Besides, Yuri is fine with this length."

Alexei hummed disapprovingly.

"And how is that skating of yours?"

"It is well. I've been coaching Yuri for a while, but I'll be going back to the ice this season."

This time, his father grunted. He was not happy. "Yuri Katsuki. From the rumors." The man renews the conversation. "Rumors of passionate relations."

"Ah, those." Victor answers nonchalantly.

"What say you to them?" The man pressed.

"Well, they are true, of course. Yuri and I are together. Publicly."

There is a pause, and I shift my feet. This seemed to have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

"Victor, don't be silly -" His voice is harsh.

"I'm not. See? We are engaged." I can practically see him raise his hand, showing off his ring. On his right hand.

I hear a sharp sound, skin-on-skin, and quickly go back into the living room, heart pounding.

Victor stand there, the upper half of his body turned, face stunned and cheek red. Alexei stands with his hand raised.

"This is not how I raised you." His voice shakes.

Victor's eyes glass over without seeing me approach.

"It's about time for you to leave." My voice is firm, and I stand in front of Victor boldly. How dare you. I can't help but to think as a bitter taste enters my mouth.

The man says nothing, but turns, puts on his hat and coat, and leaves.

I turn to Victor, who is still stunned.

Too many questions try to come out of my mouth. But I wrestle them all down and manage only one.

"Shall we go to bed?" It comes out softly, but Victor still startles.

"Y-Yes."

And even though we lay in bed, neither of us sleeps until late into the night.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up long before Victor. I fix coffee and slice some fruit, waiting for Victor. When he finally drudges out of bed, he looks ruffled and exhausted. He nearly spills his coffee as he takes it.

I give him a few minutes, respectively, before I ask the main question I need to know about last night - the rest had answered themselves as I thought about them.

"Victor?"

"Hm?" He hums into his mug.

"That was your father last night?"

He stiffens again, setting his mug down. "Yes."

I frown. "But you had said he died a long time ago. That you had no more family." I looked down. "Why were you dishonest to me?"

Victor bristled, staring down his cup. "Yuri." He takes a deep, calming breath. "My father is dead to me. That was the first time we intentionally spoke since I moved out. I was in no way dishonest with you. He is not my family."

"I'm still confused." I struggle out.

He sips his coffee and sets it down again. "No family is better than considering him family." With that, Victor stood and went back to our room.

* * *

Victor did not expect me to understand - I had the perfect family life. But as things calmed down, Victor attempted to explain to me what it was like living with Alexei, his abusive father.

I began to understand smaller things. I learned that Victor has always struggled with depression. That was why he was always smiling, why he had such a flitty mind and childlike attitude.

His father always disapproved of his career choice, and did not like that he had cut his hair. He was most distraught, though, over Victor's relationship with me.

"He has never been forgiving of the homosexuals." Victor explained, as if the words gave him physical pain.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly. Because I didn't have the necessary words to comfort him.

* * *

A few days later, mid-afternoon, I was curled on the couch, about to turn the TV on, when a knock came from the door. Victor was out getting us some groceries, and could be home anytime soon, but he doesn't knock to come in to our apartment.

I opened the door to find Alexei once more, standing imposingly.

"Hello." His says, raising his eyebrows and looking me up and down.

"Uh, hi." I shift on my feet, aware of how different my casual wear is from my dressed up attire. "Victor is out, I recommend coming again later." I go to close the door, but he puts his hand out and stops it.

"That's fine. I actually came to speak with you." He forces his way in, causing me to step back a few times. He closes the door behind him and eyes me menacingly.

Shivers run up my spine. This was the man that Victor had been raised under. This violent presence he had told me about now rested in his home once again. _Our_ home.

I swallowed my anxiety. "S-Shall we sit down, then?" I move to do so. He follows me to the living room, but insists we stay standing.

"This won't take long."

"Alright." I try to manage a smile, and fail.

He waits a moment, watching me, before jumping right in. "Yuri, I want you to remove yourself from Victor's life. Especially romantically."

I stare at him for a while, then simply say, "That is not going to happen."

He narrowed his eyes. "All you are doing is tarnishing his image and wasting his time."

"And if Victor wants me gone, then so be it." I say strongly. "Until then, we are in a steady relationship."

Victor walks in just as Alexei's hand skids across my face, glasses flying in his direction.

"Yuri!" He shouts as I stumble. He drops his bags and rushes to me, his figure blurry in my eyes. He cups my cheek tenderly before turning to his father.

"Don't you dare do that to him ever again!" Victor's voice is dark and loud as he pushes me behind him gently. Alexei doesn't answer. "What are you doing here?"

"I told Yuri to stop seeing you."

"You are so ridiculous!" Victor yells. "You have no right to -"

"I have every right!" He shouts over Victor, grabbing his shoulders. "I am your father!" Alexei throws Victor down, causing me to gasp. He then turns back to me, moving forward.

Before I can react, Victor is standing, and moves between us.

"I already said, don't touch him." Victor's voice is strong and demanding. Alexei stops. "You do not get to walk back into my life just to tell me how to live it. And you do not lash out at the person I love on my account."

His father stares, seemingly at a loss. "Why him, then?"

"Every day, Yuri Katsuki proves to be an excellent student, the most amazing best friend, and the most trustworthy confident. He is the only person good enough to bring any further into my life."

His words make my heart feel light, and brings a confident smile to my face.

Alexei seems to have no response.

"Do not come back here until you can accept my decisions." Victor finishes, moving him to the doorway. Alexei leaves without a word.

Victor picks up my glasses and hands them to me. "Are you okay?" He asks softly, concern across his face.

I nod, smiling again. "Thank you for what you said."

Victor blushes. "It is all true. Thank you for..." He gestures vaguely, unable to find the words for what has happened.

I wrap my arms around him securely, silently telling him I'd do it all again for him.

* * *

Victor may not be perfect. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, he isn't even close.

But Victor has something special, special enough that it is all he has ever needed.

Victor has his own brand of strength.


End file.
